Unexpected
by Alaska McGee
Summary: A Zabby  Ziva/Abby  fic. Abby has a hard time coping with Kate's death. One day she finally finds out who her mystery hero is... that was Unexpected. Warning: femmeslash; girlxgirl. M for dark themes such as suicide, self injury, and possibly an eating disorder later in the plot. May be triggering so this is your official TRIGGER WARNING
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I know, I know… you're not supposed to start a new FF when you've got one in progress that you haven't updated in who knows how long. But this idea hit me the other day and I just HAD to do it. Warning- contains rather, erm, dark themes. If you're looking for a happy fic full of sunshines and rainbows and puppies, this isn't the one. Also, contains romantic relation between two consenting adult females, but I doubt it will be explicit at all. As for spoilers, only for the end of Season 2, but I think pretty much everyone knows what happened when Kate stopped being there and Ziva started._

_Disclaimer: I own not NCIS, or any characters associated with it, except for Gracie. She's of my own invention. But you know what I mean, so there's no need to sue me, kay?_

**McGee's POV- Prologueish Type Thing Shanagnag Whatever**

It started when Kate died. Naturally there was a period during which nobody acted like themselves, after all, how could they? Kate was a damn good agent, and a friend to so many. No one felt like they would ever get back to normal. Slowly, however, as time went on, you started to see smiles again. Tony could make movie references again, and as his ability to invent McNicknames returned, so did my ability to use geekspeak without sounding monotonous, like a robot whose batteries were running low. Gibbs returned to his original stiff, stoic state. Ducky's story-telling made a grande reentrance, and though we'd never admit it, for a while we had missed the way he would get off-topic and were thrilled that little quirk of his returned. Jenny acted more like a director and less like just a friend of Ziva's.

But during that same period where we all started to return to normal life, Abby was hollow. Sure, her music would be blasting and her pigtails swinging, but she lacked a certain Abbyness. Her laughs were forced; her smiles rarely reached her eyes. But nobody thought to point it out. There had been rumours of a romantic relationship between Abby and Kate. Whether or not they were true, I may never know, but I do know that either way they were close. We all figured Abby was just having a little more trouble moving on due to how close she had been to Kate.

Until one night a few weeks after the funeral. I was woken up just past 3am by my cell phone ringing. Gibbs spoke only three words, but they were the scariest three words I'd ever heard in my life. They made my stomach plummet down to hell, where it caught a fire that spread to my throat.

"Abby. Hospital. Come."

I can't recall how I got to the hospital. I would imagine I dropped my phone right there and sped in my car as fast as I could, but I do remember my legs being ready to give out by the time I got there- had I run all the way? Regardless, I remember spending the rest of the night and the whole next day there in the waiting room. Nobody had told me what happened to her. A thousand possibilities flew through my head, but never once did the actual answer cross my mind.

Abigail Scuito had tried to kill herself.

**Abby's POV**

I just got out of the psych ward of Bethesda. I've been on suicide watch for the past two months. Two full months, all on my own, with absolutely no contact with the outside world. I don't know if I can even remember how to live around other people. I don't know if I can even remember how to talk. The only thing I do know is that I had better learn, because Gibbs isn't going to let me stay on my own anymore. I don't know who I'll be staying with, but I know I won't ever have any privacy. If I know Gibbs, I bet I'll be living with Gibbs, with Timmy doing his work in my lab to make sure I don't drink my chemicals, and I bet he'll even go so far as to make sure someone accompanies me to the bathroom should I slit my wrists again.

I read a quote once, by a musician called Emilie Autumn, who said "Nothing in my life has ever made me want to commit suicide more than people's reaction to my trying to commit suicide." Truer words were never spoken.

The hours pass in a blur, but the one thing I actually notice is that I am almost correct in my prediction. I am living with Gibbs, and when I return Timmy will be in my lab and Officer David will have to accompany me to the bathroom. However, I'm not allowed to return to work yet. Gibbs has me staying home—or rather, staying at his house—all day while his neighbor, a sweet young girl called Grace, babysits me. I require babysitting by a girl hardly 23 years of age. This blows.

But by far the worst part of my day is when Gibbs makes us Talk. Don't get me wrong- I love talking to Gibbs. I really do. I just don't want to talk about this.

"Abbs," Gibbs says, putting down the sandpaper he was using on his boat, "Come on. You can't just... we need to talk."

I sigh. "Okay," I try to say, but my throat still has cobwebs in it from those two months when I didn't have to say more than two words a day. "Talk."

Gibbs saunters over to me, puts his hands on my shoulders, and stares his icy blue eyes straight into my green. "Why?"

I pointedly look away. Why? How do I answer that question. I want to say, Why? Go spend six months in Antarctica, Gibbs. Wait until you're frozen from the inside out, and you can't possibly move without being completely shattered. Then go running through fire until the ice inside you just breaks apart. Then go get a needle and stitch yourself back together with barbed wire. Do all of that, and have no best friend to cry to, and then don't ask why. Ask why not.

But I can't say that. It's too many words. "I wish I could explain, Gibbs." I squeak out.

He looks as if he might cry. Oh god, did I make Gibbs cry? "You can't leave me, Abbs," he murmurs. "I've lost so many. I can't lost you. If you can't stay for yourself, please, Abbs. Stay for me."

I start to cry. What have I done to him? Gibbs doesn't cry! Gibbs doesn't say please! Gibbs is the strong one! Gibbs can survive anything! I must be an awful, wicked, selfish person to do this to my friends.

I hate myself.

All I can do is hold Gibbs close to me and promise him I won't leave, even though deep down inside I know I still desperately want to.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Oh my gosh, you guys, I'm so sorry. I haven't updated since October 26__th__. In my defense, I spent December writing a 50,000 word book for NaNoWriMo- National Novel Writing Month- and for all of December my writing skills sucked due to being wicked worn out from NaNo. But regardless, I'm sorry it's taken so long to update. A few notes along the way, I'm switching the point of view of this story. Last chapter was half from McGee's, and half from Abby's, but now I'm gonna switch to a third person narration. It'll work a lot better with the story, trust me. Umm for the record, I know the parts where Abby is staying home with Gracie are gonna get really boring, but come on, Gibbs wouldn't let Abby go work in her office, alone, around all those toxic chemicals and firearms right after getting out of suicide watch. And finally, thank you to anyone who has read this and to those who left reviews- TheBreakfastGenie, PunkRockPessimist, and lilbit1016. Finally got around to updating, hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer: NCIS and all characters relating to it belong to Belisarius Productions, though I likely misspelled 'Belisarius.'_

Abigail Scuito was bored.

Not just any sort of bored, but bored beyond belief. Bored to the point where she was willing to copy the entire dictionary down into a notebook just to have something to do- in fact, she was halfway through the A section.

After two months in isolation in a mental hospital, the last thing she could possibly want to do was be left in more silence. Yeah, she didn't want to talk about the devastation that drove her to a suicide attempt, but she didn't want to be left completely alone, either. She wanted to speak geek with her Timmy, and tease Tony. She wanted to laugh with Kate about—

_Kate. She wanted Kate._

No—no, she had to keep the Kate thoughts out of her head. She didn't need to forget, but she needed to think about other things right now. The Goth quickly stumbled across the hall to Gibbs' room and grabbed the first book she saw- _To Kill a Mockingbird_, always a classic. Her eyes moved across the page, but she wasn't really reading. Her brain wasn't processing the words.

Thoughts of work ran through her mind. Who had they gotten to cover her lab? After all, it had been two and a half months since she last went to work… if anyone broke her machines, her babies, she was going to kill them. After all, she knew how to do so without leaving behind any forensic evidence.

The team had obviously worked out a schedule of when to come see her. _When to Deal With Depressed Abby,_ the scientist affectionately nicknamed it. Whenever Gibbs was working late, Timmy came by with Chinese food and stayed for about an hour and a half before going back to work. If the team was working on Saturday nights, Tony got out early and cane by with movies to watch with Abby. He avoided any dark-themed movies and opted for more family friendly options- _Finding Nemo; The Little Mermaid; Elf_. Not that Abby minded, it was great having Disney movies or Will Farrell to cheer her up, and she especially liked that she could watch them with Tony and get a break from her babysitter.

Gracie was a nice girl, but she was so… hovering. She watched Abby constantly, as if the older woman was stupid enough to try to die with her babysitter in the house. It wasn't that Abby resented Gracie, she just resented the idea of needing to be watched after. The brilliant girl liked to be control over her life, and being watched after by some lady made her feel helpless.

Of course, though, she was civil. She wouldn't want to make Gracie complain to Gibbs, and have Gibbs be disappointed in her. He came home as often as he could, though he couldn't help it if the team caught a case and he had to work. It just got so lonely for Abby to wander around Gibbs' house, trying to avoid contact with Gracie.

Timothy McGee was bored.

He had been waiting in line for over a half an hour at the local Chinese food shop. All he wanted was to get Abby's vegetable lo mein and bring it to Gibbs' house so he could spend some time with his friend. His _just a friend_ friend, despite what Tony liked to insinuate. He was almost at the front of the line, with just one more person in front of him, but he still found himself tempted to just go to the market and buy a box of cereal or something. No, no, he would wait here. He wanted to have a nice, hot, completely not nutritious meal with Abby.

Finally, after waiting another ten minutes- albeit very impatiently, Tim was out the door and rushing to his car. He was careful not to speed… well, he was careful not to speed _too much_. Thankfully, Gibbs's house was not far from the Chinese food place, so he could arrive relatively quickly.

"Abs?" he called, walking right in as Gibbs never locked the door.

"Who's there?" cried out a strange voice.

Ah, Gracie, how could he have forgotten? "It's okay, Gracie, it's just me, Tim."

Gracie let out an audible sigh, and announced, "Alright, well, if you're here, can you watch over Abby while I run home and take a shower and all? You're usually here for, what, an hour?"

Tim nodded, unable to wait until the babysitter got out of the house. The young man didn't care for Gracie at all. She treated Abby like a child.

Abby was _not_ a little girl. She was struggling, and she was in pain, and she needed support. She did _not_ need to be treated like she was someone else's responsibility. As Tim walked through the small house, he spotted Abby curled up on the couch, staring off into space. The look in her eyes wasn't hollow and glazed over, as he had come to expect, but rather searching for anything to look at; anything to do. He made up his mind right then to ask Gibbs to let Abby come back to work.

"Bored, Abs?" he inquired, already know the answer.

"So bored, Timmy," she mumbled, not taking her eyes off of a spot on the ceiling.

Tim updates Abby on how the team is doing; tells her about their cases. She wants to ask who's covering her lab, but she's too afraid she won't like the answer.

And finally, Tim must return to work. He kisses Abby on her cheek and leaves.

Special Agent Anthony D. DiNozzo was bored.

He had already ripped every page out of a pack of Sticky Notes and played trash can basketball. He had finished all of his work early, but it was the McGeek's night to go see Abby. He had to stay here and make sure they didn't catch a case.

Tony missed Abby, even when she was in the same room. Ever since Kate died she wasn't the _same_ Abby. Yeah, her time in the hospital seemed to have done her some good- her laughs were growing more genuine and her smiles occasionally set off that Abby light in her eyes. But she was still so out of it, and Tony was sorely missing his hyperactive, bubbly, Gothic paradox of a best friend. He missed the way she used to teasingly flirt with him, especially in front of Kate—

_Kate_. Oh, how Tony missed Kate. The whole team had learned to function again and Ziva was fitting in quite well, but sometimes a wave of longing for his old partner hit him right in the stomach. He missed going through her stuff and having her yell at him; missed teasing her about how she was a Catholic schoolgirl; missed corrupting that innocent mind of hers.

But he had to work through it, because Kate hated it when stuff got in the way of the work. Not that Kate was just stuff… but she'd want Tony to go on being the perverted goofball she knew and loved. And so he tried.

"Hey, Ziva—this is just like in that movie, uh, you know, that one where those guys are… are in the office… and then one of them—" he stumbles, trying to find a movie scenario to reference, when Ziva cuts him off.

"And then one of them… says something stupid?" she guesses, grinning at him to show that she was only kidding.

"Yeah, exactly! And then his partner makes a rude comment!" Tony answers, losing himself in this lighthearted banter, glad to have someone to fight with. Their banter, however, ceased the moment Tim came back into the office, and both the Israeli beauty and the Italian jokester resumed their work—or rather, pretended to, but in reality they had simply moved their conversation to AIM chat.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was bored.

He had been sitting in MTAC for hours, monitoring the cameras he set up in his house. Not because he didn't trust Abby, but because he wanted to make sure Gracie was doing her job. She wasn't there to _babysit_ his Abby; she was there to _watch after_ her. There was a difference. Babysitting was what Gracie seemed to do: tell her what to do and then leave her alone. Gibbs had asked Gracie to stay with Abby because he hoped they would get along, and he wanted Abby to make a friend, someone she could maybe grow close to. She and Kate had been such good friends, and it killed him when he almost lost her. He knew, of course, that nobody would ever replace Kate, especially not in Abby's heart, but he thought it couldn't hurt to have a female friend for her to lean on.

But Gracie hadn't bothered trying to talk to Abby. She just went over for a few hours to make sure nobody died, and that was all.

His Abby deserved better. He knew that her boredom was only leaving her with more time to think about Kate. More time to want to die.

And so when McGee approached his desk that evening, Gibbs already knew what was going to be asked. And he already had an answer.

"Abby is coming back to work."

_A/N: Well, thanks for reading this far. I know this chapter was uneventful and boring. Soon enough you'll get more detail on the previous relationship between Kate and Abby, and then the Zabby can begin. Review and you get cookies! :3_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: See how I try to update frequently? I'm trying to make up for my over-two-month absence. ^-^ Do you forgive me? Hmmurp thank you to my lovely readers and reviewers… er, reviewer, lilbit1016~ But then, the chapter's been up for like four hours and that's all, so whatever. Anyway, this chapter contains a lot of Kabby flashbacks, don't like, don't read, and all that jazz._

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Alaska McGee does not own NCIS or any characters relating to it. I wish I could think of a witty disclaimer like other writers do, but you'll have to stick with my boring don't-sue-me's. Oh well~! I also do not own the song My Immortal by Evanescence._

Abby thought she could handle it. She really thought that she was going to go back to work, and get straight on working on one of the cases out their- after all, it's not like she _only_ worked for Team Gibbs, though a certain Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs seemed to forget that sometimes. She supposed it was because he wished she _was_ all theirs.

But somehow, the universe decided that today was going to be the day without crime. _Today_ was going to be the first day in god knows how long that she didn't have a single case to work on. _Today_, her first day back, just had to be the one day in which she actually had time to think.

The usually perky Goth sat at her desk, with her head in her hands. Her pigtails had come sloppy and were almost falling apart, but she didn't take notice. In the background, one song was stuck on repeat- _My Immortal_ by Evanescence.

_"And if you have to leave_

_ I wish that you would just leave_

_ Your presence still lingers here_

_ And it won't leave me alone_

_ These wounds won't seem to heal_

_ This pain is just too real_

_ There's just too much that time cannot erase…"_

Abby could feel Kate's presence in her lab, in her office, in the air. Every breath she took held a little bit of her fallen friend… best friend… girlfriend. Months had passed, but Abby still couldn't convince herself that she was really gone. This office held too many memories; too many wounds were reopened.

She remembered the day she and Kate took their relationship to the next level.

_They had always been close, the best of friends. When they first met, they clicked immediately. But one day, after a particularly gruesome case relating to a man videotaping him having sex in his basement, Tony and Abby were having a lot of fun teasing Kate about her innocence. The brunette agent had sat in Abby's lab, shuffling through papers and grumbling to herself._

_ "Well, jeez, Kate, what's got your panties in a twist?" Abby had giggled, rolling her chair over to where her best friend sat._

_ "Oh, just Tony… he thinks I'm such a goodie two shoes because I'm not a pervert like him," Kate had responded, her voice sharp but her eyes revealing she wasn't nearly as angry as she acted. _

_ "Aw, but Kate, we love how innocent you are. It's cute," Abby said, but then added in a slightly more seductive tone, "but I don't think you're nearly as innocent as you act."_

_ Kate melted at the tone of Abby's voice. She had tried to regain her composure, tried to pay more attention to her inner monologue reminding her, "Come on, Kate, you're a good Catholic girl, good Catholic girls don't want to kiss other girls, Kate, pull yourself together…"_

_ But she couldn't resist. "That a challenge, Abby?" Kate said, almost breathing out the words._

_ By this point the Goth had nearly backed the brunette against the wall. Kate could feel Abby's cool mint breath on her neck; Abby could sense the nervous warmth radiating off of Kate's flushed skin. The taller woman bent down and captured her not-so-innocent friend's lips in her own. _

_ They remained in such a position, both exploring the mouths of the other woman, and Kate let out a soft moan and brought her leg up around Abby's waist, bringing them even closer together. _

_ "Oh, Kate," murmured Abby, when she heard the faint ding of the elevator and broke apart from her friend to rush back to her desk, making it look as though she had never stopped going her work._

_ Tony walked into the room with a stack of papers. "Damn," he joked, "I really thought today would be the day I caught you two making out."_

_Abby laughed along and stuck her tongue out at Tony, while Kate's face flushed an even deeper shade of red. If only he knew._

That had been the beginning of a long relationship. Two years of the women exclusively dating. Sure, rumors circulated about them, but nobody ever had any evidence other than the speculation of horny gentlemen desperate to see lesbian action. They never told anybody, though not for lack of Abby's begging, because Kate didn't want Gibbs to get angry. _Rule twelve,_ she constantly reminded the scientist.

_God, Kate,_ Abby thought to herself, wiping tears out of her eyes, _I loved you so much. Why'd you have to leave? Why did you leave me?_

She could swear she caught a whiff of the perfume Kate used to wear.

/_**Meanwhile, back in the bullpen**_/

"Tony," Ziva asked after making sure nobody else was within earshot, "why does Abby seem to hate me so much?"

Tony looked up at the Israeli, unsure of how to respond. "She doesn't hate you, Zee. She still just missed Kate."

Ziva nodded, though she didn't understand. In Mossad, she had lost lots of friends. You had to learn to deal with that, especially when working in the sort of job in which you could leave one day and never come back. Kate knew she might die, and she went out anyway. Why did Abby not see that logic?

Of course Ziva understood that it hurt. Her sister, Tali… when Tali was killed in a bombing in a market in Israel, Ziva thought she might never be able to leave her bedroom. But it had been almost a year. She'd had months of emptiness, and snapping at Ziva, before her suicide attempt, and months after that.

Ziva decided she had to be there for Abby. She was not very good at being close to people, but she could see that Abby hated her… and Ziva did not care for being hated. And with that, she stood up from her desk and announced to Tony, "I'll be back."

The exotic beauty then ran across the street and picked up a Caf!-Pow to bring down to Abby's lab. The sight she saw when she arrived frightened her.

Ziva hadn't seen Abby since the latter woman had been let out of the hospital. She didn't feel like she was welcome to visit Abby at Gibbs' house, and she'd been busy with paperwork all morning. And there sat the once radiant Goth, with her head cradled in her hands, her hair in disarray. Ziva could see Abby's shoulderblades poking out of her simple black tee shirt. It looked as though she hadn't eaten in months, but that couldn't be true; Gibbs was taking care of her. Her song choice was unusual, played on a piano with a haunting melody rather than the usual loud metal.

"Abby?" Ziva called out tentatively, worried that she would wake a sleeping beauty or startle a girl deep in her thoughts.

Abby gave a slight jump before turning around. "Officer David, hi."

At least she pronounced DAH-veed correctly.

"Hello, Abby… I brought you a Caf!-Pow… how are you holding up?"

Abby sniffled a bit, and used the back of her wrists to rub any remaining tears from her eyes. "I'm fine, Ziva, thank you."

The use of her first name surprised Ziva, but in a pleasant way. The Goth reached out a pale, shaking hand and grasped the oversized cup, taking a few drinks of sweet caffeine.

"Abby, it's obvious you are not fine. Do you want to… do you want to talk about her?" Ziva asked, trying to figure out how she was supposed to act. She reached out a nervous hand, about to put a comforting hand on Abby's shoulder- then jerked it back; shakily reached it out again, but then let it drop to her side. Abby chuckled and pulled Ziva in for a hug.

"It's not so hard, Ziva, to be a friend," she whispered, "but I appreciate the effort."

_A/N: Wow, two updates in one day. I must really feel bad. So I actually expected this chapter to be a lot longer, but I felt like I found a really good stopping place and I didn't want to give that up. Thanks for reading~!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: WARNING. Not that interesting. It'll get better from here, I promise. This chapter is more of a transition. Thank you to my beautiful readers and reviewers- I LOVE YOU GUYS. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN JELL-O. Actually I don't eat Jell-O. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN VEGAN CUPCAKES. I LOVE THOSE THINGS A LOT SO YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU GUYS A WHOLE BUNCH. OODLES OF LOVE._

_ Disclaimer: Once upon a time there was born a little girl named Alaska. She loved these fictional people named Abby Sciuto, Timothy McGee, Anthony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Ziva David, Donald Mallard, and Jimmothy Palmer. I decided his full first name is Jimmothy, as I don't remember it ever being said that 'Jimmy' is short for James. So he's Jimmothy. Sadly, Alaska does not own these characters, or the show on which they appear, NCIS. She basically doesn't own anything in this fic except for the fact that she wrote it. So… no lawsuits would be appreciated._

**The Bullpen**

It was a slow day for Team Gibbs. There weren't many cases out to solve, and the little that were left were all being taken care of by other teams. McGee had done all of his paperwork on time- no surprise there- so there was nothing to catch up on. Nothing, that is, barring his constant addiction to any number of computer games. Today's activity of choice: Minesweeper. Of course, since McGee had finished his own paperwork ages previously, he spent his morning doing Tony's. The probationary agent complained, but secretly he didn't mind. Paperwork wasn't all that loathsome, and he liked doing nice things for people. Especially for Tony—but he didn't just say that.

Speaking of Tony, the 'skirt-chasing' senior field agent was, once again, bored out of his mind. The McGeek had done all of his paperwork, and he had nothing left to do but mindlessly browse the internet. After playing a few rounds of Tetris, he was reminded of something ridiculous he'd heard about from Abby—_Tetris Fanfiction._ God only knew how that girl found this stuff—but then, anyone would get bored after being holed up in Casa del Gibbs-o for so long. _God,_ he thought as he scrolled through pages upon pages of short stories written about colourful blocks, _who writes this stuff, anyway? Who sits down and thinks, I'm gonna spend my day writing about blocks?_

Ziva David, of course, was not about to be the only member of Team Gibbs doing paperwork. She had powered through hers at around 11am after realizing that Tony wasn't procrastinating—he was having it done for him. Now, as she noticed the clock in the corner of her computer screen hit noon, she decided it was time to pay Abby a visit.

**Abby's Lab**

It was snowing.

Not that crime took a day off whenever it snowed or anything, but this wasn't just _any_ snow.

This was the _first snow of the year_.

Abby nearly knocked her desk over jumping up in joy as she noticed the flakes free falling from the sky- little frozen bits of water that tried to go for a peaceful walk, but they forgot their wings and now they fall.

"IT'S SNOWING!" She squealed. It was the first time she had been excited, really legitimately excited, in ages.

Kate had been alive for the first snow of last year. It was a Wednesday in late January—snow had come late that year. The girls were hanging out in Abby's lab; Abby waiting for a ding from Major Mass Spec, and Kate _schlepping_ for Abby at Gibbs' request. Mostly, he just wanted her downstairs so Tony would shut up and stop asking her who the hickey was from.

_For the record,_ Abby thought to herself, smiling fondly at the memory, _it was hardly noticeable. Only Tony would have picked up on it…_

That was the day the girls had considered telling the team about them.

"Do you want them to know?" Abby had asked.

"I don't know, Abbs, do you want them to know?" Typical Kate. Totally sure of herself in a business setting, but bring up her personal life and she never had a straight answer.

They had debated for a good twenty minutes before Abby had jumped up, knocking over her stool [which then knocked into Kate's rolly chair, which sent the brunette sliding into a mannequin that had complete relevance to the case but whose purpose Abby had by now forgotten. Then the mannequin fell over and crashed into the fridge, hooking into the door and dragging it open. Ultimately, the affair ended with Caf!-Pow all over the lab floor]. Abby had run to the window more excited than a seven year old would be, screaming, "IT'S SNOWING! KATIE, IT'S SNOWING!"

The storm had gotten severe enough to snow everyone in for the night. Kate spent the night in Abby's lab, and she fell asleep in Kate's arms…

"Abby?"

A voice from the doorway only partially knocks Abby out of her daydream. "Kate?" She responds with a far-off look in her eyes.

Ziva sighs. This was not a good beginning. "No, Abby… it's me, Ziva. I brought lunch?" She phrases this end like a question, as if asking permission to continue speaking with the scientist.

Abby's smile crumples, then brightens again moments later. "Hey, Ziva! What can I do you for?"

Once more, the Israeli sighs. "Abby…"

Abby chokes down a laugh. "Oh god, what, Zivs. Are you breaking up with me or something? _*sigh* Abby," _the Goth mocks.

Ziva shakes her head. "Abby, you remember the other night, when you were upset and I asked you if you want to talk about Kate… I know that you do, Abigail, do not try to deny it. I promise, I will listen."

Abby pauses. She does want to tell Ziva—but she feels like a burden. If she starts talking about Kate, she won't ever stop, not until the tears flood the room and they're both drowned. Not until Ducky is performing their autopsies. "Let me make you dinner first," Abby says. "The least I can do for boring you. I'll drive you home—er, to my place- from work tonight, okay?"

And so she does.

_A/N: Quick, boring little chapter. Before the Zabby blossoms I'm basically living in these Kabby flashbacks, and yes, there will be lots of those in the next chapter. But that's also when our lovely girls can start actually forming a relationship. I originally planned to have Abby spill her guts right here in the lab, but I like a dinner scene… I'm rambling. I'm rambling because I know I have a boatload of homework to do and I don't want to go do it. _


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: It's really effing short today. Sorry, there will be more soon, but it's warm out and I figure I should spend five minutes outside and get a vitamin D fix. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH, OMFG YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, okay yeah bye :3**_

_** Disclaimer: CHARACTERS ARE NOT OF BELONGING TO ME, THOUGH I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF JERK PREYS ON FANFICTION WRITERS TO SUE, I MEAN THE WHOLE POINT OF FANFICTION IS THAT WE ALL ADMIT WE DON'T OWN THE MATERIAL WITH WHICH WE ARE WORKING, BUT YEAH, I DON'T OWN NCIS OR ANY CHARACTERS AFFILIATED WITH IT, SO DON'T BE MEAN. I LOVE YOU.**_

The city sleeps, almost entirely peaceful. Almost. In a small apartment only five miles from NCIS headquarters, a beautiful pale woman clad in an 1800s style funeral gown paces through her living room. She hasn't slept through the night since _that day_. This is only her third night staying in her own apartment, breathing in the gunpowder scent of her homemade perfume rather than coffee and sawdust, with no one hovering in the next room over, lest she try to die again.

She is afraid to sleep. She doesn't want to have the dream again. Sleep is when her mind lets its guard down, and in sneak the visions, ghosts of the past, memories she can't handle. If she has the dream again, she might not even have to kill herself. Her heart might just

_Stop_

_and think about it for a minute, Ziva, _an exotic goddess mentally commands herself. _Why else would you be freaking out all the time? _This is the third night in a row she's woken up in the middle of the night with a sense of panic in the back of her head. She doesn't want to admit why, because she's not supposed to care about people. Her brain denies it, but her heart knows she's waking up in terror of memories of _that night._

No one knows she was the one who called the ambulance. No one knows that she was the one to see the beautiful scientist, unconscious in the bathroom, blood everywhere. So much blood. This girl, such a mystery to the Israeli, limp and lifeless, hardly breathing. No one knows because she never said a word; she didn't want to relive it. Telling someone she saw it would mean seeing it again; remembering

_That night_

_ she said something, remember?_ The goth whispers to herself. The night before _that day_, her brunette beauty had said something to her.

_ I want you to promise me, Abby, that wherever I go, you can follow, until the day I die. I want you to promise me that when that day comes, should it come to soon, you'll keep going. You'll live for both of us. Promise me, Abby._

She had promised. She broke her promise. She had tried so hard to keep going on, but trying to live without her love created this constant gnawing feeling in her stomach, the constant fear that she would lose TimmyGibbsTony next, that her existence was pointless. Talking was a chore in itself. She couldn't. She didn't know what it was that she couldn't do, but she couldn't. Since her love died, the goth was no longer afraid to die, too. In fact, living on was her greatest

_Fear_

_ is a wasted emotion. Sitting here afraid will do you no good, _scolds the Israeli. If she wanted to know all was at peace, she'd have to go find out. She couldn't do that, though. Then everyone would know she cared. Everyone would know she was vulnerable.

In Mossad, she was taught a few basic rules. She was never to be vulnerable. She was never to get attached to people. She was never to show unnecessary emotion. She was never to trust.

Laying in her bed, hair flying every which where, panicking about Abby proved that she could break all these rules at once.

She was a failure. An absolute emotional wreck of a failure to Mossad.

Suddenly, her father's voice clouds her head. _Why didn't you go with them? You are a disgrace! It is your job to protect! That is who you are! I wish it had been you, instead of her. I wish it had been you._

So did she, Eli. So did she.

_**A/N: Short and sweet. I wanted to do all of them at once, but I kind of like the style in which I did this, but I cannot go on like that. It's irritating. So, hope you liked it, more soon. xx**_

_**… Okay I wrote this and like two other chapters over a month ago. I'm so sorry I never uploaded them! asdfghjkl; I fail. Okay well here you all go.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: I realize that the last chapter may have been confusing. I'll try to go back and elaborate in this chapter, okays? I love you, sweetiepies. Also there was a grammatical error in the last chapter, 'to' where it should have said 'too.' It's really bothering me so I wanted to apologize.**_

_**Disclaimer: Ho hum, don't own NCIS, don't own the characters, don't claim to, lallalala, the end.**_

**2:00**

Ziva stared at the phone in her hand. The screen cast a ghostly blue ray upon all in sight, broadcasting to the Israeli's exhausted eyes that it was exactly 2am. Hours earlier, she had intended to drive Abby home from work. She wanted to make the poor girl dinner, let her relax (and maybe find out a thing or two about this Kate girl she'd heard so much about). At 19:00, though, when she when down to the lab, she was met with complete darkness. The machines were shut down, the lights off, and the door locked. Abby had left.

Had she forgotten about their plans, or simply not cared enough to stay?

**3:00**

Abby had wanted to have dinner with Ziva. She really, truly did. As the clock approached 7pm, though, and she knew Ziva would show up soon, panic struck the Goth's heart. She didn't know why, exactly. Fear was a waste of time and an illogical reaction to a simple dinner invitation. It would have been nice, she knew, to let Ziva come over. To eat a warm meal for once, instead of scrounging up whatever dry cereal she could find, too stuck in her own sadness to bother cooking. To laugh with a friend, or someone who could someday _be_ a friend. To smile and feel and maybe just for a night rid her body of this omnipresent plaguing chill, this coldness that made her shiver even under three blankets.

But she couldn't do it. She just couldn't do it. Her head swam with visions of Kate, the first time they ate dinner together. The plans had come about exactly the same way…

_There had been a shooting. Kate's arm had been grazed by the bullet, nothing serious enough to necessitate more than a quick trip to the hospital. No stitches, no worries. Abby, however, had panicked. She waited in the bullpen from the moment Ducky told her about the shooting until they returned. Four hours, pacing back and forth, wringing her hands and pacing. The moment the team stepped out of the elevator, Kate was in Abby's arms, held tight in a grip that never intended to let go._

_ It took all three agents of Team Gibbs to pull the crying Goth off her best friend. _

_ Later, as the brilliant scientist worked more furiously than ever to find the man who shot at her people, Kate had walked in and hugged Abby from behind. _

_ "Let me drive you home tonight, Abby."_

_ The Goth tried to protest, tried to insist she should be the one taking Kate home. But no, her darling friend insisted._

_ "I'm driving you home, Abby. I'm cooking you dinner. I'm making sure you're safe tonight."_

_ As it turned out, Kate had the cooking skills of a small camel. Dinner was ruined in a matter of minutes, but a ruined dinner made the night. They laughed and joked, and ordered Chinese carryout. All night, they lay on her couch, watching reruns of shows they didn't care about, just enjoying the company._

_ It was perfect._

**05:00**

There was rarely a time in Ziva David's life that she didn't want to wake up. Sleeping was a chore for her, a hindrance interfering with her time to run and think and plan and work. Sleeping meant letting her guard down, something she had always been trained not to do. There was one time in her life when she was conscious and let her guard down. There was one time in her life she didn't want to wake up.

_She was fifteen years old, and it was late May. Her first love, a boy named Kyu Sung, had come and passed. He was an exchange student from South Korea. They'd been together for a year and a half when came his time to return home. Ziva thought they could make a long-distance relationship work. Kyu thought otherwise._

_ The girl was heartbroken. She'd found it in herself once in her life to trust in someone outside of her family, and he'd left. She knew, deep inside, that it was a teenage breakup and she would get over it, but in the moment, it had seemed such a catastrophic event, she wanted to go to sleep forever and not wake up. _

_ Every other day, Ziva woke up at five am, regardless of the day. This Saturday, though, she slept in. It was 11:30am when she woke up. A note outside her door from her mother read that she and Ziva's younger sister, Tali, had gone to the market. Grocery shopping was Ziva's usual job._

_ Tali loved the market. She was rarely allowed to go, however: the only one they could afford was in a dangerous city, with killers on every street corner. At any moment, you could have a knife thrust into your back. This was precisely why Ziva always took the job for herself. If she went, her family wouldn't have to risk it._

_ Every time Ziva had gone, it had been fine._

_ This time, it was not. Ziva received a call at noon. Her father quietly muttered the nine words that changed Ziva forever:_

_ "There was a bombing at the market. They're dead."_

_ It was Ziva's fault. She knew it, her father knew it, everyone in town knew it. If only she had not been so absorbed in her own pathetic life, her mother and sister would have survived. She ruined everything._

She always ruined everything.

**7:00**

7am. Time to 'wake up.' Of course, one can't actually wake up when she never fell asleep to begin with, as Abby rarely did. After so long in the hospital, and so long living with Gibbs, being watched by Grace, it was impossible to live without hearing perky voices ordering her about. Not actually hearing voices- god forbid she had yet another reason to go see a therapist, which all of her teammates had been pushing her to do, insisting regularly talking to someone would help her- but recalling the commands of the falsely cheerful people she once was controlled by. Nobody was that cheerful all the time, not even Abby in the good days. Not even when Abby had Kate.

_Rise and shine, Abigail! _

_ Time for your Zoloft, Abigail!_

_ Time for breakfast, Abigail! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! Breakfast will make you shine all day long, like the bright little star you can be!_

Shut up. Even the happiest goth you'll ever know can't handle that much happy in her darkest hours.

The goth stepped into her bathroom, let her clothes drop to the floor, and turned the water in her shower up to _scald_. A boiling hot shower was all she needed, water so hot it left welts. Scrubscrubscrub, down the drain go memories of Kate, memories of happy, memories of the Before. Waswashwash, rinse off psych ward memories and doctor words and suicide.

She emerges shivering, the cold air hitting her steaming skin, and redresses in her typical _I'm-okay-happy-Abby _attire, and at last it is time to throw herself into her work, and try to block out the world for a few hours.

**9:00**

This was one thing Ziva would not mess up. She had spent too much time dwelling on past mistakes, and though no one was there to save her in her darkest hours, she would be there for Abby. She had to be. She couldn't help shake the feeling that maybe… maybe saving Abby from her demons could somehow help balance out her failing to save her mother and sister from living, breathing demons so many years ago. Anything to try and rid her from the sobbing that woke her up in the night, the screams she could swear were real and in the voices of her mother and sister. Anything to quiet the howling and give her some peace.

The screaming in her mind kept her from her morning run; Ziva was already off her schedule. This, of course, presented her with a perfect opportunity: stop at the local convenience store and bring Abby her necessary caffeinated bliss. Hopefully the gesture would be welcome, though Ziva was nervous, her mind still stuck on memories of the empty lab, the forgotten invitation…

Work started late today, a bit of compensation after their last case kept them working for four days straight. No one on Team Gibbs had to be in until noon, but Ziva knew Abby would have to be in, doing forensics for other teams. It was so easy to forget she had other people to work with…

Ziva almost felt a strange pang of jealousy as she considered all the agents coming down to the lab, getting to talk with Abby. But that was stupid, as jealousy was a wasted emotion and not to mention how pointless it was to be jealous of other co-workers. She shook the thoughts out of her head and headed out to her car, excited to have a few hours of boredom for which maybe, just maybe, Abby might let her stay in the lab.

**10:00**

Work for Team Gibbs was not meant to start until noon.

Ziva came to the lab.

Ziva has been in the lab for thirty minutes.

Ziva came to the lab, and stayed for thirty minutes, on a day when she wasn't meant to come to work until noon.

_What._

Abby happily sipped her Caf!-Pow, certainly grateful for the company but also rather confused by the motivation, and most of all, disturbed by the awkwardness between the two. It had been silent except for a few moments of dull casual talk upon Ziva's arrival.

They both move to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry about—"

"Did I—"

Abby giggled and Ziva chuckled. "You go ahead," instructed the Goth, motioning for her potential friend to speak first.

"Did I, um… no, no, you go," insisted the Israeli after stuttering for a moment.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. I wanted to wait for you, I did, I just… just couldn't… um…"

The scientist's voice trails off as her eyes lose focus, staring at her coworker. She stood against Abby's desk, fingers curled around the edge, leaning back against it with her feet crossed at the ankles. Her head was cocked slightly to the side, staring back at Abby, _as a few loose strands of hair caught the light shining in from her window…_

_ "What are you staring at?" Kate had asked so long years ago, standing in that exact position. _

_ "You're just so beautiful," murmured the lab rat, hypnotized._

"So beautiful…" whispered Abby once more.

Ziva furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what the other girl had just said. "Pardon? I didn't catch that. What's wrong, Abby?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Anyway, um, I'm sorry I didn't, you know, wait for you the other night… Maybe you could come over tonight, and let me make up for it?"

_Oh god, Abby, what are you getting yourself into? You suck at socializing! But… you owe it to Ziva, I guess._

Ziva smiles. "I'd like that."

_**A/N: Ending the chapter here because going into work would be tedious. STAY TUNED FOR ANOTHER CHAPTER AFTER LIKE THREE MONTHS BECAUSE THAT'S HOW FREQUENTLY I SEEM TO POST THESE, also because my father and I are going to watch Slingblade in seven minutes so I can't really hang about, okay I love you all bye.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Well, hi there. I'm not even going to try and give you an excuse for why I only really update every two or three months, because the truth is I'm actually just super lazy. It's summer break now, though, so maybe I'll do more? I feel bad :c Yet, not bad enough to stop XD ok but yeah I have a whole day to write so hopefully something will actually get DONE._

_Disclaimer: IT'S IN EVERY OTHER CHAPTER AS WELL OK I DON'T OWN NCIS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING OK OK OK BYE_

"I'd like that," Ziva responded to Abby's invitation. This was good, she reassured herself. Abby wanted her to come over. Abby didn't hate her.

"Fantastic!" Abby squealed, her perky voice a mere shadow of what it used to be. "I just have to shut down my babies, and we can go! " The Goth ran around the lab, preparing to start shutting everything off, before catching a glimpse out the window. "Oh… it's like 10am, Zivs. Um… I knew that."

Ziva simply laughed. "Meet me in the bull pen tonight, okay? I will have some paperwork; I wouldn't want to forget to get you. I'll be quite the busy butterfly today," she responded, not realizing she had confused the terms 'busy bee' and 'social butterfly.'

_Bee, _Abby wanted to correct, but refrained. Ziva's idiomatic errors had been becoming less and less frequent as more time passed, and Abby wanted to preserve that quirk of hers. It had seemed so irritating at first, but as the agent grew on Abby, so did her mistakes. They were adorable.

Perhaps busy butterfly was a correct statement, considering how much of Ziva's work ended up taking place talking to other people. She wasn't lacking in social skills _per se, _but the woman was serious about her work and preferred to do her work at her desk- when she couldn't be in the field, of course. The day dragged on and she found it hard to resist the temptation of visiting Abby in her lab, perhaps with a Caf-Pow or two. Gibbs was the one who visited Abby with glorious refills of caffeinated beverage. Ziva had work to be doing.

However, her calm, focused façade melted completely when a Goth scientist full of boundless energy skipped- literally _skipped- _in front of Ziva, setting an empty cup of Caf-Pow on her desk and wordlessly pouting.

"May I help you, Abby?" She inquired, ignoring the curious stares of Tony and Tim, as they wondered why the Abby had gone to Ziva rather than one of the gentlemen.

Abby, rather than answering verbally, simply picked her cup up again and shook it to demonstrate that it was empty. She then set the cup back on the desk, now on top of Ziva's papers, stamped her foot, and made her pout even more exaggerated. _And adorable, _Ziva thought to herself.

"Um, Abbs, you want me to get you a refill or something?" Timothy McGee called from his desk. He'd never admit it, but he was mildly jealous of all the attention Abby seemed to be giving Ziva today. When he went to give Abby a Caf-Pow upon arriving at noon, he immediately noticed she'd already had one. At first, he assumed Gibbs had brought it to her, but Abby's way of greeting the agent was to ask if Gibbs had arrived yet, and ask wasn't it sweet that Ziva brought her a Caf-Pow early?

Yes, it was sweet. But it confused him. Ziva and Abby weren't friends. Ziva didn't bring Abby Caf-Pows. Abby didn't think Ziva was sweet. Ziva didn't look up from her work for anyone, especially not Abby. Abby didn't go to Ziva and pout when she wanted something; she did that to Tim or Gibbs, sometimes Tony. It didn't make sense.

In his despair and confusion, Tim missed Tony getting up to bring some papers down to Ducky. He missed Ziva chuckling and run out to get Abby another Caf-Pow. He missed Abby sitting down at Ziva's desk and put her feet up, taking out Ziva's knife and pretending to be the Mossad agent. He missed Abby throwing her head back and laughing, an actual genuine laugh, something nobody had heard for ages. He missed Abby suddenly stop laughing and grow captivated by the knife. He missed Abby twirling it in her fingers, staring in wonder and awe.

He missed Abby haphazardly throwing the knife back to where it belonged as the elevator dinged and Ziva returned. He missed Abby kissing Ziva's cheek as she graciously accepted the Caf-Pow.

He did not miss Abby nervously tugging on the wristband she wore to cover the scars from her attempted suicide. He did not miss the subtle remnants of blood peeking out.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: You guys are cute okay now guess what this chapter is super boring but it's also necessary and hopefully I can get the next chapter done today so you don't h9 me because I promise soon there will be more drama in this story than on an episode of Degrassi ok xoxo gossip girl_

_Disclaimer: no._

At precisely 9:32pm, only two people remained in the bull pen: Ziva David and Timothy McGee. The air was thick with a tension you could cut with a knife.

Ziva stared at Tim whenever he wasn't looking, silently willing him to go home before Abby came to get her. It wasn't that she really thought she had to hide anything, but she didn't feel like explaining to Tim that they were on good terms now; that Abby no longer held a grudge against Ziva.

McGee stared at Ziva whenever she looked away, begging her silently to leave so he could confront Abby about what he saw. He prayed it was but an accident, a slip of a fingernail or a wrist hit on the edge of a table, but he could take no chances. Not with Abby.

The silence was broken not by either one speaking, but by the sudden _ding _of the elevator, signifying someone getting off. McGee jumped, startled, and dropped his pen. Ziva smirked at his anxious reaction, her pulse never increasing in the slightest. Both turned to the direction of the elevator, hoping their favourite scientist would come to talk. Instead of a perky 'hello,' however, the two were met by a 'good evening,' spoken quietly and with a thick Scottish accent.

"Good evening, Ziva, Timothy," Ducky greeted, his familial attitude towards his coworkers breaking the tension easily.

"Hey, Duck. Need any help with your stuff? Ziva, maybe you could walk Ducky to his car?" McGee gestured to the pile of papers the medical examiner carried, desperate to get Ziva out of the room. Why was she even still here? She'd finished her work hours ago.

"Or you could, Tim? Not that I wouldn't love to, Ducky, I just have an email I need to finish," Ziva answered, afraid she'd hurt the elder gentleman's feelings.

Ducky laughed. "Oh, I'm quite alright, both of you. You're working awfully late tonight; Jethro and Anthony left hours ago! Why, I'd think a few young people such as yourselves would be glad to have the evening to yourselves!"

Even as quick witted as both were, neither Ziva nor McGee could think of a reason why they'd stayed so late. Thankfully, Ducky demanded no explanation. "You know, this quite reminds me of a young lad I worked with in my early days… oh, but I shan't bore you with that story. I must get home and ensure that Mother fed her corgis!"

Off went the medical examiner, and with it, the more comforting environment. The harsh tension returned.

"So, Ziva… not to be rude, but didn't you finish your work hours ago? What are you still doing here?" McGee was obviously nervous. He'd never been the best at confronting anyone, let alone a trained assassin.

"It is… how do you say it… none of your candle-wax, McGee," Ziva barked, her retort diminished by her idiomatic error. McGee almost whispered 'beeswax' under his breath, but held his tongue lest he further upset his coworker.

The minutes passed like hours. Finally, finally, _finally, _Abigail Scuito bounded out of the elevator and hurried to the desk of one Ziva David. Tim could feel his pulse pounding in his neck; his breathing hitched. He'd always had a mild anxiety problem, and finding a way to get Abby to talk about what he saw terrified him.

"Um- um, Abbs, c-can I talk to you for a minute?" he stuttered.

Abby's face fell. "Oh, Timmy, I'd love to, but I promised Ziva a ride home. Car troubles, you know? Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait, can't it?"

The probie swallowed hard and nodded. He'd come to regret this decision, but right now he was too panicky to insist they speak immediately. He'd call her tonight, he promised himself. He'd talk to her tonight.

As he watched the elevator doors close in front of his female coworkers, his heart dropped into his stomach. It clicked in his mind that letting her put off talking to him was a mistake. What if she hurt herself tonight?

"_Fuck."_


End file.
